Getting there

December 26, 2013 

[This post is late - very late. I went looking for information and saw that it was sitting there incomplete. Some info was used on later post. Perhaps I rejected it for a reason last year, but today I thought it should be added. It made me laugh. I updated information and am posting it in July 2014, but backdating to stay with the rest of the trip.Confused? Join the club.]
 

No dog walking today. A different kind of walk/run was in store. And how should I count the time? Do I skip a day?
 

First there was the running of errands in our town [For us it is somewhat like the running of the bulls in Pamplona, with a little less blood]. Then we “ran” up the highway to the airport. We were early, so we sauntered through check-in and security.* We walked around the terminal, trying to work out the “kinks” from the drive before the long flight made them permanent. We did what we usually do, seek out the newsstands and bookstores.
 

At this point I should mention that we were so dreading the long flight that we managed to almost miss the art immediately adjacent to our gate. A large mosaic circle on the floor looked up at me as we stood to prepare for boarding. “Oh, that looks like a work by Viola Delgado!” I mentioned to DH. “She was in my sister’s class in high school and is a very successful artist in Dallas. She does a good deal of public art.” Then I looked at the wall and saw the sign confirming that yes, this was the work of Viola Delgado and it is part of a “walk” one can take in the airport. It is something to look forward to the next time we are waiting there.**
 

How do I describe the flight? It was 9 hours of crying babies interrupted by, perhaps, a few hours of sleep here and there. DH and I sit across the aisle from each other on long trips. This way we have some space in our togetherness.*** I am sure we would have growled and grumbled and stared “death dagger looks” at the frustrated parents had we been sitting together. We are somehow more civilized sitting apart.
 

Our escape from the foreign airport was surprisingly easy. Our passports were not questioned (perhaps because FRANKFURT is stamped there repeatedly). And we looked like what we are  – middle aged folks, a bit dazed and confused by a long flight with screaming children (someone else’s – thank heavens!), little sleep, and only a modicum of understanding of the language.**** We found our luggage and our way to the train station (the LONG distance one as opposed to the regional station). We purchased tickets and waited for the train.

December 27, 2013

THE TRAIN!
 

After the cramped plane, DH insisted we travel “first class” on the Deutch Bahn.” I believe that means you pay twice as much for a ticket so you have a little more room, but a steward will make runs to the dining car for coffee and croissants.*****
 

At first we were traveling backwards. This did not sound like a good idea to me. I am not the best traveler (just a little motion sickness – really, nothing serious most of the time) and I REALLY hate going backwards on a train/bus/subway. I like to be looking where I am going. DH took one look at me – white faced and stressed and responded as only he can, “Well, there’s nothing I can do about it!”
 

We headed into the city and, after loading more passengers at the main Frankfurt train station,  we were facing forward (Hallelujah!).

We stopped only a couple of times before we arrived in Nuremberg (See the train post - the ride deserved its own post.).
 

When we reached Nuremberg, our ride was not there, allowing us some time inside to exchange money and change into warmer gear. Suddenly they found us – these smiling young people, LD and MC. They excitedly helped us ditch our luggage in the car and then we walked through the streets of the old city, still decorated for Christmas. Market stalls from the Christmas market were still in place. Some were empty, but others still served warm wine, chocolate, sausages and other foods (Insert another cheer here).
 

Nuremberg boasts many street musicians and, while there were no brass groups playing carols (my favorites, but caroling season is behind us), we were serenaded by accordion on our way in and violin on our way out of the city. Living statues also were surprising walkers and delighting children.
 

We shopped a little and climbed up to the castle before heading back to the Banhoff parking garage for the ride to Amberg.
 

               We are staying in the apartment of a friend of MC. It is inside the city walls of Amberg, across the street from a bakery, and down the street from two churches – we hear the bells. It is a 20 to 30 minute hike****** between the apartment and  MC’s house outside of the walls of the city, a short way up the hill atop of which perches a monastery and Our Lady Help of Christians church.
 

               Next to the church is a restaurant/coffee shop/beer garden, our last stop of the day. We ate and talked and talked and talked. Locals wished us happy travels as we planned the next day’s activities.

NOTES:

*Always listen to your parents! Mine taught me to be polite to authority. We skated through the “old fashioned” metal detector at the airport because (trust me on this) I was nice to the TSA agent who asked me if I had a belt – “No, ma’am.” – and, when questioned as to whether I had any spare parts (which she further explained, “No hip replacements, new knees, what have you.”) I responded “Oh, no, ma’am,” – when I wanted to ask, “Just how in the (#%$&%@) old do you think I am?” [My apologies to anyone with new/spare parts].  We were then directed away from the FULL BODY SCAN (I am convinced we are all going to start glowing in the dark) and towards the old fashioned “walk through and don’t set off the bells and whistles” machine.

** http://www.dfwairport.com/art/P1_017319.php
 

*** "Love one another but make not a bond of love:
      Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls....
      And stand together, yet not too near together:
      For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
      And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow" 
      ~Kahlil Gibran, The  Prophet.
 

**** Thank heavens for DH’s GI German. I usually spend days squinting at signs, my mind telling me that I should be able to recognize words, if I would just concentrate more.
 

*****This is probably the right place to mention that DH does not like public transportation. He wants more control and usually insists that we rent a car. I LOVE public transportation. I like nothing more than sitting back and watching out the window as the miles fly by. I like the SEE things.

So, I figured I would not gripe about the cost of the tickets as we were ON THE TRAIN, I got a cup of good German coffee and a croissant, and I was able to watch out the windows as DH read a book and tried to pretend he was not on public transportation. I also like to meet locals and talk to them on the train. But on this ride, most in our car were working on laptops. And I do not know the language. [I should also admit that our last big trip was a bit of a nightmare of missed exits and wandering aimlessly on the autobahn and through the streets of more than a couple of German cities. We figured we should not tempt fate with another sojourn on the roadways of Germany if our travels did not really require a car.]
 

******30 minutes walking TO MC’s as it is uphill/20 minutes walking back to the apartment, if we are dawdling.